


Make it Look like a Dream

by kikitheslayer



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, The Lucky One - Taylor Swift (Song)
Genre: Angst, Based on a Taylor Swift Song, Faith is lowkey in love with Buffy lbr, Gen, Ignore the comics, Mild Blood, Post-Series, Song fic, the spuffy is mainly implied
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-24
Updated: 2015-07-24
Packaged: 2018-04-10 23:42:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4412480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kikitheslayer/pseuds/kikitheslayer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Heavily based on the song "The Lucky One" by Taylor Swift. Being a slayer is lonely.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Make it Look like a Dream

**Author's Note:**

> Not including lyrics so I don't get sued. PLEASE listen to the song/read the lyrics before reading this.

The building was made of weathered brick. There were no windows. It seemed almost like a castle, towering above any building Madison had seen in her, albeit sheltered, life. It even had turrets. It was surrounded by fresh green foliage, healthy trees, and empty fields. It was all a little overwhelming for the fourteen-year-old standing on its concrete steps.

She took a breath before reaching up to knock on the thick brown door.

A small wooden slat slid open, revealing a pair of green eyes. A female voice said, “We aren’t expecting a delivery for three days.”

Madison swallowed and said carefully, “I know, but we work faster when it’s sunny.”

The eyes disappeared, and she heard a click as the door unlocked. It swung open. In the doorway stood the green-eyed girl. She could only have been a year or two older than Madison. “Name?” she asked.

“Madison,” she replied, “Madison Davies.” 

The other girl nodded and extended a hand. “Britta. You must be the one from Ohio, right?”

Madison nodded, taking her hand. Britta’s grip was strong, her hand tough and calloused.

Britta lead her through a hallway. Inside it was much more modern: white walls, fancy computing equipment, shiny metal weapons. The school hummed with indistinguishable voices, and every doorway Madison peered into held the same thing: rows and rows of strong girls.

“I’ll take you to your dorm,” said Britta. She lead her up a staircase and into a spacious room. One half contained a table, a couch, and a few chairs, and the other six beds, six chests, and two large closets.

The room was chilly, but seemed personal. Each bed had a different spread, and the walls held posters of musicians, tv shows, and cute animals.

“Your roommates will be back from class soon,” said Britta. “They’ll explain anything you need to know, and you can pick up your schedule at lunch time.”

“Thanks, “ gulped Madison.

Britta nodded and departed.

 

True to her word, four girls soon strode into the room, all carrying arm-loads of books and binders. They enthusiastically introduced themselves as Ashley, Nour, Stella, and Maggie, and the five became fast friends, along with Lucy, who arrived soon after. Madison learned the nature of the school: half certified high school or college level courses, half physical training that would put the WWE to shame. She would spend four years there before being assigned a watcher and base.

 

Madison knew she had the same magic running through her veins, the same unexpected strength, but she found it hard, especially in that first year, to fit in with many of her fellow students. She kept mainly to herself and her bunk mates. But although she did not feel she had quite mastered this strange new world, she couldn’t help but watch the people who had -- the watchers, witches, werewolves, and the occasional vampire. Most of all the older slayers. They seemed so powerful; all of them had toned muscles and walked with straight backs and weapons strapped to their thighs.

Often she wasn’t the only one watching them. There were several -- she supposed “heroes” was a fitting term -- that attracted everyone’s attention. Madison didn’t know their names but saw how people looked at them, giggling, hiding whispered comments behind cupped hands. Most of all she felt, almost in her bones, that they were important. Intrinsic. Special.

She learned their names and stories slowly, each one filling her with an even greater sense of wonderment than the last.

Willow Rosenberg, most powerful witch in America. Maybe the whole continent. Maybe more. 

Dawn Summers, probably the first person to ever trace the path of supernatural energy to annoying little sister, a woman who had carved out her own place in the world as one of the Modern Council’s most revered watchers.

Spike, aka William the Bloody. The second souled vampire of all time, slayer of slayers, savior of worlds.

Faith, a slayer who shouldn’t have existed. A slayer who had seen the dark and turned back. (And as it happened, the school’s intimidating principal.)

And of course, Buffy Summers. The reason they were all there. The most capable slayer in history. The personal hero of every single student.

They flitted about the edges of the school. Most were there rarely, and when they were they were almost never approached, just stared at with hungry eyes.

One night Madison sat in a circle in her dorm with the others. The room was darkened, lit only by a few candles snatched from one of the spacier witches. They joined hands, closed their eyes, and swore to be just like Buffy one day.

 

Most pieces of news flew fast in the school, but this one didn’t. Rather, everyone woke up with a strange heaviness in their hearts, their fears confirmed as the news dripped over the student body.

Classes were canceled, more for the good of the teachers than the students. Few spoke, but they quickly found their friends, squeezed each other’s hands, and sat in silence together. Everyone felt sick.

By the end of the day, this is what everyone knew:

Dawn Summers’ home had been raided. Her slayers had survived, she had not. Another watcher had collected her body off the kitchen floor and scrubbed away the blood, but no amount of rubbing would get the two bite marks out of her neck.

 

The next event was different. Knowledge imparted almost instantaneously. The half of the school that didn’t hear the shouting quickly heard all about it from the other.

 

_Buffy raced around her bedroom, grabbing clothes and objects and stuffing them haphazardly into the open suitcase on her bed. Occasionally she would pause and run her hands through her blonde hair before she continued._

_“There she is,” said a voice softly, from the doorway. Spike rested against the frame, arms crossed, a cigarette in his mouth. Never mind that he had long ago quit smoking within school walls._

_“Thanks,” said Faith, not taking her eyes off Buffy._

_She jammed her hands in her pockets and stepped forward. “Hey, B. Watcha doing there?”_

_Buffy didn’t answer, but her speed increased._

_Faith took another cautious step. “You okay? Is there something you want to talk about?”_

_Buffy shook her head. “No,” she said, faux brightly. “Is there something you wanted to talk about?”_

_“Well,” said Faith slowly. “I was thinking we could start with that suitcase there.”_

_Buffy folded a sweater in half, not looking at her. Her smile withered. “I see Spike told you.”_

_Faith closed the suitcase gently. “This has been tough on all of us, Buffy,” she said. “And I can’t even imagine what you’re going through.” She gulped. “And I think you should take some time off. We all do. But this is crazy. And I think that you should take tonight, get some sleep, and tomorrow we can plan something real nice.”_

_Buffy shook her head. “Nope,” she said simply, reopening her suitcase._

_Faith opened her mouth, but paused before saying, “Okay, maybe you’re not hearing me. You are not being yourself, and if you do this the way you are planning, you’re going to regret it.”_

_Buffy’s shoulders slumped. She dropped the sweater and turned to Faith. “Do you think is the first time I’ve thought about this?” she asked._

_“I--”_

_Buffy continued, “I have never wanted this.” She shook her head and gestured all around her. “Not ever. And I was always, always needed. But…” She shrugged, her eyes filling with tears (or maybe Faith was only noticing them now). “You guys don’t need me anymore. I can go. And after this?... I need to.”_

_Faith took a step closer to Buffy, crossing her arms. “You think we don’t need you? If you leave, half these girls are going to follow in your footsteps.”_

_“No, they won’t,” said Buffy. “They’re strong. And they’ve gotten to train in a safe environment. You and I didn’t get that.” She paused. “Besides, they can always look up to you, right?” She continued her rapid packing._

_Faith scoffed. “Is that what this is about? What you and I didn’t get? Get over yourself. And you know as well as I do that these girls don’t look at anyone like they look at you.” She closed the suitcase again, this time keeping one hand on the lid. “But maybe they shouldn’t.”_

_Buffy gave her a warning glance. “Don’t bring jealousy into this, not like your entire life hasn’t been spent being jealous of me.”_

_“Uh, guys?” came Spike’s voice from the doorway._

_“Well, I’m over it. The last thing I want to be is a quitter.”_

_“Don’t you dare call me a quitter. You cannot understand what this is like. Every day I see something new. A new suspect, a new newspaper article. But the police couldn’t have protected her, Faith. The only one who could have was me. And I stopped. I got so busy, I just… forgot. Forgot about my little sister.”_

_Faith’s face fell. “You can’t blame yourself Buffy. She was an adult, she was capable, she’d had all the training in the world. It wasn’t up to you to save her.”_

_“Then whose was it?” demanded Buffy. “She was just a human, Faith. And I treated her like a slayer. And she’s dead, and I am leaving.”_

_Faith’s face turned angry again. “You think I’ve never lost anyone? We’ve all lost people, Buffy. But most of us didn’t leave just because we were sad.”_

_Spike strode between them before Buffy could retort. “This is clearly not going well. So I think we should take fifteen minutes and try--”_

_Buffy threw up her hands. “Big surprise! Weak-willed vampire wants to take a break before any fighting can happen.”_

_“Step aside, blondie,” said Faith. to Buffy, she said, “You want to fight? Cause I bet I know who’ll win.”_

Most of the rest was yelled, expletive-filled, and half incoherent. Their shouts carried through most of the echoey school, and only got louder when others stepped in. That night, Buffy left with just one suitcase and a backpack to her name.

_“Hey,” said Buffy, stopping at the cab door. She walked up to Faith, ignoring the rest of the line people. She had said goodbye to most of them in private, but she and Faith hadn’t spoken since the argument. “It’s all yours now,” she said gently. Her voice cracked. “Take good care of it, okay?”_

_Faith didn’t say a word, her teeth clenched, even as Buffy brushed her hand across her shoulder._

_Buffy climbed into the cab, and Faith walked back into the school. Neither saw the other looking back._

 

The next evening Faith called the entire school into the largest room. The students sat down, the staff lined the walls, and Faith paced the room.

She clapped her hands and the group was suddenly eerily silent.

“By now you’ve all heard about Buffy,” she began, addressing the room. “Some of you might even be thinking of quitting, too. Well, listen up.” She paused. Finally, she said, “Buffy was weak.” (Several of the room’s eyes widened, but if anything it was quieter.) “Bad things are going to happen to you. And when they do you can run away, like Buffy did, or you can be a slayer and fight.”

“No.” A voice came from the back corner of the room. A dark-haired girl stepped forward. “Buffy wasn’t weak, she was human.”

“Kennedy, don’t you even start with me right--”

“She lost her sister, Faith. You don’t get to sit around and call her a failure. Last I checked leaving was better than joining the enemy.”

Faith’s face tightened. 

Kennedy started for the door before she could say anything, shaking with anger. “I know,” she muttered. “I’m leaving.”

The room broke into chatter as soon as she was out the door, but they were quickly silenced.

“See that is what we can’t have,” picked up Faith. “Buffy doesn’t exist anymore. Your actions are not influenced by her.” She bit her lip. “And as Kennedy reminded me, you don’t get to talk trash about Buffy. Not a single one of you as earned the right to look down on her.”

She dismissed them.

There was another fight that night. Most of the staff were involved. Madison stuck her head under her pillow and tried to get some sleep.

 

The six graduated a few years later, when Buffy had faded to the back of their brains. They pressed together in their green robes and took a selfie, grinning widely.

“I’m so excited!” exclaimed Stella. “Aren’t you guys?”

Madison gave a half-hearted smile. “I’ll miss you guys,” she offered.

They quickly latched onto that, hugging each other and swearing to keep in touch. Madison took a deep breath, but it didn’t fix the weight in her chest.

 

The blood spread over the ground, staining the grass. Madison could only spare a glance, lest she be caught, too. Her vision blurred. Her watcher was sloppy, she told herself. She said it over and over again until it sounded like the truth.

 

They stood in a circle, the last barrier between a living world and a dead world. Witches, watchers, vampires, slayers, all there, all well-armed. Madison stared down the edge of her sword as the crowd advanced toward them.

Nour yelled over the din, “Hey, this is what we dreamed of in school, remember?” She raised her bow and arrow. “Pretty, cool, and saving the world.”

“I don’t know,” called back Madison. “I always kind of wanted to be an librarian!”

 

Everyone stayed up late that night, smiles on the faces, so happy to be alive, to have won. Another apocalypse had been avoided, and the world seemed that much more fragile. Madison went to bed.

 

She knocked on the door, three short raps. It was night, and the moon was high overhead, illuminating small cottage. A light breeze blew.

The door opened. Buffy’s face fell the second she laid eyes on the girl. “Slayer,” she said. It wasn’t a question.

Madison nodded. Buffy was wearing a sweater over her pajamas. She had wrinkles around her eyes, and a slight crick in her back, but she was easily recognizable as the woman who had, all those years ago, first demonstrated to Madison’s class how to properly hold a sword.

“You’re not the first one to track me down,” Buffy said. “You should go.”

Madison shook her head. “I’m not like the others.”

Buffy placed a hand on her hip. “You’re also not the first to say that.”

Madison gulped. “Please,” she said. “I need help.”

“Save the word yourself.” Buffy tried to shut the door, but Madison stopped her. She couldn’t help but notice that she was now the stronger one.

“I mean I want to leave,” Madison said. “I don’t want to be a slayer anymore, but I don’t know how. Please. Help me.”

Buffy waited a moment before she nodded and opened the door wider. “Come in,” she said. She flicked on a light, turned her back to Madison, and paced down a hallway. “Congratulations,” she called, “you’re getting out. You’re one of the lucky ones now.”

**Author's Note:**

> *sweats over the one sentence where I said WWE because I am a weak, tiny person and I'm not even 100 percent sure it's related to wrestling*


End file.
